Three posts in a day. Something must be wrong.

Last night I dreamt that I got rid of all my possessions, including clothes, and stopped talking. I was arrested on a sidewalk, naked, in front of a fire I started from some twigs. I was examined by a psychiatrist and I talked to him, even though I didn't want to. He asked why I got rid of everything, and why I stopped talking. I told him that people and things no longer held any interest for me. He asked why I gave up wearing clothes. I said I didn't want anything made by people, and if I ever got cold I could make a fire from twigs and branches. The psychiatrist told the judge that I was probably the sanest man he'd ever met. Then I was locked away for the rest of my life for being crazy.

I'm almost wondering if this dream was a little prophetic.